What happens when content creators stop creating?

As a content writer, creator, maker, whatever you want to call yourself, your biggest challenge is often consistency. Life gets busy. Clients demand all of your creative energy. You have to make a tough decision about next steps and somehow posting content as an “expert” when you’re feeling lost is inauthentic.

These are real challenges. I would never even imply that the past month hasn’t been anything but an extraordinary test of my values, self-worth, and yes, creative motivation. The decision to leave RedBrick Rooster has left me with a lump in my throat so large sometimes I have to check to make sure I’m still breathing. While vlogging and writing have often acted as therapeutic tools, I denied myself their usefulness. Why? Because I actually stopped creating many months ago and while somewhere in the depths of my soul I knew it was therapeutic, I couldn’t access that part of me that sits down and does it.

I know I am good at my job. I know that I can on a semi-consistent basis create interesting content that connects me to my clients, my friends, and other kindred souls. So why it is so easy to stop writing, vlogging, engaging on your social networks and hide from it all?

Shame is a part of it. A feeling of failure which is easier to hide from with busy work, excuses, and blaming your work for sucking your creativity dry, instead of admitting that it’s the only place where you do not feel dry and so you spend more time than is necessary there. There is no problem with expending so much creative energy on your work. It’s amazing. Addictive. Rewarding. The problem is that even with that there is shame lurking in the shadows. It hides there, constantly reminding you that you could be striving higher, writing more, writing for more people, becoming more recognized. So the longer you stop writing the craftier you get at blaming your work for not reaching that next level of success. Your brain takes this as a cue to start becoming stressed every time your plate is full with client work even though that is exactly what you’ve worked your little buns of trying to achieve.

Now the work stopped. Yes I am doing speaking gigs and workshops more frequently than I ever imagined possible but that work that forces you to stretch out and knead, to poke and prod, and shape a soft gooey dough into something unique is slowing down. Temporarily yes. But still slowing down almost at a full stop now. I am left only with that lump in my throat and shame that cannot be hidden with work anymore.

Here is the useful part of this inhibited period of my “recreational” creative life: it forces me to ask myself why I create.

I create because of my love of the process. Sharing it. Being in it. Reflecting on it at the end of a transformation. I think I genuinely forgot this. I was breaking my neck bringing in new business and that took priority over creating for myself. It also made the process of breaking neck a lot more painful because I had no tool for acknowledging and processing my transformation along the way.

I want to start making things again. I want to stop feeling like being “in process” or “under construction” is not a good enough reason to write. It is the only reason to write. So I ask that you join me in taking a step towards that lack of inhibition we all know and some even love about me. I need you now. Starting today I’m burning the bra. I’m breaking down these damn walls I’ve put around creating for myself. Starting with this admittance of letting that shadowy shame prevent me from doing something that makes me smarter and happier.

Anyone want to join me at the bonfire bra-less?